


Good Morning, My Flower

by raendown



Series: NaNoWriMo 2020 Drabbles [134]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Family Feels, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21549445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: Their daughter is the absolute sunshine of his life even when she acts just like her Daddy.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: NaNoWriMo 2020 Drabbles [134]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533161
Comments: 4
Kudos: 117





	Good Morning, My Flower

Hashirama woke up to a pair of large dark eyes staring up at him with curious wonder. Not usually the sort of look any parent wanted to wake up to but also definitely far from the worst one that had ever dragged him out of a dead sleep. With a slow smile he reached out and pet a hand through his daughter’s smooth black hair.

“Good morning, my little flower.”

“Morning Papa. I made breakfast.”

“That’s nice, dear.” A low rumbling hum escaped and he closed his eyes again, thinking it would be nice to get another minute or so of sleep before getting up. He shot up in the bed a moment later with horror in his veins. Madara was still beside him in the bed. Which meant that whatever their little darling had been doing in the kitchen was entirely unsupervised.

Quick little thing that she was, Madoka had already skipped out of the room. Hashirama was up out of the bed in a flash to follow. With Madara's brains and his own curiosity she was hard to keep up with on the best of days but in the kitchen particularly she was capable of wreaking a special kind of havoc. As evidenced when he skidded in to the room and found nearly every surface available covered in a pale colored goo, some of it half cooked though most was raw, with the kitchen table shining as a last island of sanity on the far side of the room. Just the same, the neatly arranged plates all contained the same half-cooked goo that dotted each of the walls.

“You’ve been busy,” he croaked.

“Breakfast!” Madoka clapped her tiny hands together and looked up at him with eyes so filled with pride for herself that Hashirama found he just couldn’t bring himself to scold her. Not when she’d only been trying to do something nice.

“This was a very kind gesture, my little flower. How about we sit down together and eat? Daddy’s meal can wait until he wakes up.”

“Yay!”

Her little feet pattered against the tatami mats as she scurried over to pull herself up in to the chair containing her booster seat while Hashirama sat himself down to her left, his own usual chair. The goo did not look any more appetizing from up close. If he squinted he thought he could imagine that she’d been trying to make pancakes but from the smell he would guess that she hadn’t chosen quite the right ingredients.

“Papa first!” Madoka insisted. Hashirama offered the best smile he could muster.

“Of course, dear.”

Gathering his courage, he dipped the fork she provided in to the semi-pancake look-alike, valiantly hiding a cringe as he brought it to his mouth. Then regretted it. It was the single most awful taste he’d ever put on his tongue, all sorts of clashing flavors warring for attention as the most disgusting part, and overpowering all of them was the mushy texture. That was hands down the part that made it so hard to swallow and send his daughter a wobbly smile.

He could do little more than stare as she burst in to cackling laughter.

“Daddy! Daddy he ate it! Just like you said he would!”

From down the hall there came the sound of Madara's own laugh, a deeper echo of their daughter’s, and Hashirama realized that he’d been had. Again. Not the first time the two of them had teamed up against him and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last. Pouting now, Hashirama shoved the plate away from himself and stood with great dignity to glare Madoka in to silence before marching back down the hall.

Madara didn’t look the least bit sorry even when he stood over the bed with his best disappointed Hokage expression so Hashirama resorted to the best revenge he could think of.

“I hope you enjoy cleaning all that mess up.”

The laughter stopped immediately and Hashirama was treated to the dulcet tones of pretty begging for the next hour but he held firm. In all things he was a fair man. They’d had their laugh at him and he took it well but now it was his turn to get a laugh out of watching his two most precious people spend the rest of their morning scraping uncooked batter off the kitchen walls. A good way to wake up after all.


End file.
